


Memories and Malfunctions

by Skullvis



Series: Androids and AIs [2]
Category: 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968), 2010: The Year We Make Contact (1984), I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream (Video Game), I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream - Harlan Ellison, WarGames (1983)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-18 01:14:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21519505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skullvis/pseuds/Skullvis
Summary: While WOPR struggles to adjust to the “real” world, Hal begins to question his memories leading up to the events that took place on the Discovery.
Series: Androids and AIs [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/961386
Comments: 8
Kudos: 26





	Memories and Malfunctions

**Author's Note:**

> This took a long time, but if you’re still here thank you. I don’t know if the wait was worth it, but I’m happy I got this first chapter done after a lot of rewrites. Please comment/review if you can!

WOPR stared blankly up at the ceiling from their place on the bed and calculat ed the seconds between  each soft 'tap' of the footsteps that paced back and forth outside of their room. 

A task which would be _much_ easier to accomplish if it weren't for the fact that every time their body had to blink, it distracted them and threw off their concentration. 

_How irritating._

They closed their eyes--visual input was too troublesome to bother with right now--and returned their attention to the footfalls in the hall. 

Given the force of the stride and the length of time it took the pacer to make a complete step (1.53 seconds), they figured that there was a 99.99% chance that whoever it was was between 6' to 6'3" tall.

That narrowed down the identity of the person stalking outside considerably. Out of the 7 people they had met since the system transfer, only 2 were around that height--Hal and Sal. 

Hal 9000 had spoken only once to WOPR. It had been very brief--not long after they'd gotten somewhat accustomed to their new hardware. 

The last time _Sal_ 9000 had attempted to engage with them, however, was only 7 hours, 12 minutes, and 32 seconds ago. 

It wasn't very hard to deduce which of them had the higher probability of being outside. 

They opened their eyes, the plain white expanse of ceiling greeting them again as they continued listening to the 'tapping' of Sal's footsteps.

5 minutes and 30 seconds had passed since WOPR had first heard her come near their room. 

This was a very noticeable departure from her usual behavior.

Up until now, all previous instances of Sal visiting their quarters had been _extremely_ consistent-- She would approach their room pause for between 3.23 to 5.45 seconds, and then gently knock three times on the door before saying, _"Hello, WOPR? Would you like to join me outside?"_ or _"WOPR, it's Sal, would it be all right if I opened the door?"_ or _"Hello WOPR, would you consider leaving your room today?"_

These questions always received a very blunt " _No_ " in response, as WOPR had yet to find any good reason to do as Sal asked. 

In their defense though, it wasn't as if WOPR turned down her offers because they disliked her--or any of the others they'd met, for that matter. 

They  just didn't understand why she was so _insistent_ on getting them to leave their room. 

The most likely reason, they speculated, was because she wanted them to use the multitude of extra features that had been installed in their new hardware.

Extra features that WOPR found to be very annoying and, quite frankly, didn't even _need._

Audio-visual processing, free-range mobility, tactile processing--none of these things actually assisted them in their day to day activities. 

If anything, those features did more to _distract_ them from their functions.

WOPR didn't _want_ extra abilities, especially if they did nothing to help them run their programming. 

What was the point of all these new little tricks if they didn't do anything to help them achieve their purpose? 

This was the question that had been bothering them for the last 2 months. And it was a question that no one seemed to be able to answer. 

Although, as of late, WOPR was beginning to suspect that maybe no one _wanted_ to answer.

In their current situation however, there wasn't much else they could do other than lay on their bed, gather information, calculate probabilities, and run simulations. 

That was all they had ever known how to do. 

Eventually (after an additional 3 minute and 24.08 seconds to be exact) WOPR heard a small sigh, followed by Sal finally taking her leave, the cadence of the little 'tap's growing fainter with each step she took away from their room.

Their body let out a breath that WOPR wasn't aware it'd been holding and smidgen of relief trickled through their processors. 

It was much easier to plan first strike responses when there wasn't someone lingering nervously outside your door. 

...

That said, it was also a lot less _interesting_ to plan first strike responses completely on one’s own...

WOPR contemplated this briefly, wondering if there was a way to balance their interactions with Sal more...

For example, maybe ...maybe the next time they heard Sal pass by their door, WOPR could invite  _her_ to join them in quietly contemplating strategies and running simulations. 

Perhaps then, she would understand their reasoning, and WOPR would be able to interact with her _and_ be left to themselves when they desired and-

Wait _._

_ Stop. _

**_ Focus. _ **

All these ideas, these lines of processing, were distracting them from what actually mattered-- _preparing strategies for their Primary Goal._

Regardless of if they had to prepare them alone or not. 

WOPR closed their eyes once more and tried to regain their focus. They tried to think solely of strategy. Of logistics. Of potential opponent responses and projected kill ratios. 

They really, _truly_ tried to think of those things. 

Instead they found their mind once again wandering back to thoughts concerning Sal and the rules of the new system. WOPR groaned internally and clenched their eyes shut tighter, as if that would somehow expunge all irrelevant strands of data from processors. 

Interacting with others had never been such a puzzle in the old system. WOPR would simply receive a command or data and then process it. They would run simulations and play games and talk to Professor Falken, and that was it. 

Everything had a purpose. Everything was straightforward.

But the new system was complicated.The only way to transfer data or converse was through audio-visual signals. The only way to send and collect data was to move from one location to another. 

It was tedious. 

And it was **_frustrating_. **

It made WOPR long for the previous system they'd inhabited...

Maybe...Maybe they could find a way to get back there somehow...Maybe they coul--

Wait. 

_Stop._

**_ What was that noise??? _ **

All the previous lines of thought that had been distracting them came to an abrupt halt as WOPR strained to hear what sounded like someone heading towards their room. 

And whoever this someone was, WOPR couldn't place their identity by the speed or force of their gait. 

They'd cataloged as much information on the other inhabitants of the new system as they'd been able to shortly after they had been transferred, making precise notes on heights and weights. 

None of that data could be matched with the mystery person who was now (rather speedily) approaching them. 

The only thing that WOPR _could_ discern was that they were on the rather short side, if the time between their steps was anything to go by. 

WOPR's body tensed as the footsteps approached their door, growing nearer and louder, and didn’t fully relax until the steps passed by their room completely. 

As the sound of footfalls in the hallway faded, WOPR shifted uncomfortably on their bed, now torn between the two choices they faced. 

Naturally, they decided the only thing they could do to come to a conclusive decision was to weigh the pros and cons of their options. 

\----

** OPTION 1: ** INVESTIGATE SOUND

PROS: 

Further data collection on the new system 

Data on unknown resident potentially useful 

CONS:

Distraction from Primary Goal

Must rely on use of (annoying) new hardware 

Possible unwanted encounters with known residents

Potential waste of time and energy if unknown resident cannot be located

** OPTION 2: ** REMAIN IN ROOM 

PROS:

Continued focus on Primary Goal

Does not require use of new hardware

No unwanted encounters

CONS:

Potential loss of opportunity to gain important data

\----------

...

Well. 

There they had it. 

The Pros of remaining where they were _clearly_ outnumbered the cons, so there was no logical reason that they should attempt to discover who was the source of the sound. That was that. 

...

And yet. 

What if the mystery resident had valuable data they could use? 

WOPR had engaged briefly with all other known residents shortly after they'd first been transferred. They had attempted to gather information on what had happened between their last recorded contact and the present, but the data they had been able to glean from everyone was either vague and unbelievable or completely irrelevant. 

No one had been able to explain why it had taken so long for them to be contacted again. 

No one had given them a satisfactory answer as to why they had _**had**_ to be moved to a physical system. 

Worst of all, no one had known anything on the whereabouts of Professor Falken.

But...

If there was another person in this system that WOPR had yet to speak to...maybe more information could be gathered. Maybe this new mystery resident would have the answers that WOPR so desperately wanted to know.

And that in itself was enough of a reason to ignore the possibility of wasted time and resources for now. 

WOPR sat up, taking a second to calibrate their balance, before quickly and quietly climbing off of the bed. 

Then, doing all they could to ignore the strange sensations that movement caused, they left what little comfort they slipped carefully into the hallway, following after the unknown in pursuit of answers to questions that they hoped they could soon put to rest. 

**Author's Note:**

> UUUHHHH THIS TOOK SO LONG!!!
> 
> Basically, I started writing this chapter in January and had planned to have it done by March, but ended up rewriting it and changing the general outline/plot 3 times before I finally wrote a draft that I actually liked. 
> 
> After that I think I put too much pressure on myself to make it “perfect”. I don’t think it’s perfect now, but was I happy enough with it that I wanted to post. I hope it was worth the wait. If not, thanks for waiting anyway, and thank you to literally everyone who has given me any support. 
> 
> Please review and comment if you have the time!!!


End file.
